


not my research paper

by Stylin_son



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU: footie Louis and choir Harry, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylin_son/pseuds/Stylin_son
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry’s the star of the school choir and Louis is the star footie player (and also secretly thinking of trying out for the musical). They chance meet after Louis hits Harry with his car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh shit

**Author's Note:**

> the title is inspired by true events! this was written instead of my research paper. hopefully it doesn't suck

“Louis, 3 laps for such shitty defense!” Shouted Coach.

Louis rolled his eyes, stopping the ball with his foot before setting off towards the end of the pitch to begin his laps. It wasn’t his fault he was bad at playing defense. Louis was a forward, always had been and always would be. He kicked the ball _into_ net, he didn’t try to keep it _out_. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Zayn snickering at him; Louis flipped him off before rounding the goal and putting Zayn at his back.

7 laps and 30 minutes later practice was finally over. Louis jumped in the steaming shower, trying to keep from shouting at Zayn about how shitty Coach was.

“And I mean it’s not my fault I’m a shit defense seeing as I’ve never played that position before!” Louis ranted, massaging his shampoo on his scalp.

Zayn nodded, humming noncommittally. Louis sighed, Zayn was never one for drama.

“Meet you at the car, yeah?” Louis called to Zayn as he hopped out of the shower.

“Yup,” Zayn replied.

~*~

After what seemed like forever, Zayn was finally out of the shower looking perfect as ever. Leather jacket slung over his shoulder, cigarette in hand (Louis had tried endlessly to get him to quit) Zayn looked like he belonged on the cover of Vogue, not in Louis’s little Mini-Cooper.

“Where am I dropping you?”

“Um, if you don’t mind dropping me at the studio, actually,” Zayn blew some smoke out the window.

“Sure, no problem.” Louis turned onto Rose Parkway and headed north. “Doing anything interesting at the studio today?”

“I’m thinking of trying paint today,” Zayn’s face brightened. “Usually I just use spray paint, but I want to do something nicer than that for my sister’s birthday.”

“Oh, you’re gonna paint her something?” Louis turned to look at Zayn.

“Yeah, she really likes – holy shit, look out!”

Louis’s eyes snapped back to the road a second too late. Something large and curly was now lying on his windshield.

“Holy fucking shit!” Louis wrenched his car door open, praying that whatever he hit wasn’t dead.

Lying on the hood of his car was a very beautiful, dazed looking boy. The boy had dark curly hair, unbelievably red lips, and the greenest eyes Louis had ever seen. If he wasn’t already starting to hyperventilate, the boy would’ve taken his breath away.  

“Are you okay?” Zayn placed his hand behind the boys head, slowly lifting him into a sitting position.

“Yeah, I think so,” the boy drawled. (Or maybe he was slurring his words, had Louis hit him that hard?)

“Can you see straight?” Zayn asked as he lifted the boy’s limbs to make sure they still worked without pain.

“Yeah, yeah I can see straight and everything,” the boy nodded. “Just a little dazed, but I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Zayn raised his eyebrow, shooting Louis a look.

“You sure you’re okay?” Louis asked, taking a hint from Zayn. “I, um, I’m really sorry I hit you. I just was, um, I was uh…” Louis wasn’t sure to say. Goddammit how was he supposed to apologize when this boy was so beautiful? It was making Louis’s head foggy.

“S’alright,” the boy waved off Louis’s apology. “Buy me lunch and it’ll be all good.” He winked – fucking _winked_ – at Louis, sliding off the car. “Oh and ‘m Harry, by the way, nice to meet you.”

“Uh,” Louis scrambled for words.

“I’m Zayn, and this is Louis,” Zayn stepped in. (But oh, judging from the looking Zayn was giving him he was going to hear about this later). “Please, ignore Louis; he’s had a bit of a shock. But I’m sure he’d love to buy you lunch and formally apologize.”

“Yeah, yeah lunch. Right, of course,” Louis nodded, trying to clear his head.

“Lovely,” the boy – Harry – smiled. “Do you have second lunch tomorrow?” Harry inquired as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, seeming as if he hadn’t just been hit by a car moments ago.

“Yeah, but…” Louis paused. Oh shit, _shit_! It finally hit Louis who had almost run over with his car. “Oh shit, you’re Harry from the choir right? Gemma Styles is your sister, yeah?” Louis asked, feeling very stupid.

“That’s me!” Harry smiled wide, tilting his head to one side. He looked like a 5 year old (and Louis hated him for looking so cute in that moment.) “So, second lunch?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve got second lunch tomorrow.” Louis nodded vigorously, scrambling to put a plan together in his mind. “Um, anywhere you want to go in particular?”

“How about that little café down on 52nd street? I think it’s called ‘Lulu’s’ or something.” Harry shrugged.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Okay, cool.” Louis smiled (although it probably looked more like a grimace.)

“Sounds good!” Harry grinned at Louis. “Well, I’ve gotta go. Nice meeting you,” he waved. “And thanks for not entirely running me over,” he added to Louis before walking away down the street.

Louis was so totally fucked.


	2. Luuunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has pre-lunch worries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of really sort of sappy??? but i guess that's how most of it will be

It took Harry an entire hour that morning to figure out what he was going to wear. After he’d decided on his tightest, least ripped black skinny jeans and his ‘ _Hipsta Please_ ’ t-shirt, the next problem was his hair. Did he put a bandana in it like usual, or was today a day to actually do his hair proper? He almost considered calling Gemma before he remembered she was at uni and didn’t take kindly to early morning calls about hair styles. Well, perfectly styled curls it was.

~*~

“Wow, this is the first time in months I’ve seen ya hair like this!” Niall exclaimed, grabbing Harry from behind and messing his curls before he could duck away.

“Hey! I spent a long time on them,” Harry pouted, mussing his curls so they were just so.

“Oh yeah, I forgot! You got yourself a little date today,” Niall winked. “Gonna make a move on the fit footie player?” Niall mimed making out against the lockers.

“Get off my locker, you dick,” Harry shoved Niall off his locker and opened it.

“So that’s a yes, then?” Niall grinned, turning to open his locker as well and shove some books into it.

“I didn’t say that!” Harry buried his face in his locker, trying not to let Niall see the blush spreading across his cheeks like wild fire.

Okay, so _maybe_ he’d thought about kissing Louis. But just once! Or possibly twice… But definitely not more than twice a day for an entire semester, because that would be pathetic. Not the point, though. Harry just had to make it through Maths, and then it was lunch time!

“Well, I gotta go,” Harry unburied his face from the locker.

“Have fun,” Niall called as Harry walked down the hall. He tried to ignore the exaggerated kissing noises he heard.

~*~

After the most boring maths class Harry had ever been in (and there had been many) it was finally lunch time. Harry practically sprinted out of class and down the street towards the café. When he go there, he stopped just long enough to check his reflection in the glass before opening the door and plopping himself down by a window seat.

The café was cute; it smelled of roasting coffee and cinnamon buns. There was an older woman behind the counter drinking something hot, paging through a home/garden magazine. There weren’t many people in, just one man sitting in a corner typing away at his computer and then a couple talking quietly over some tea. Small enough to intimate, but not so intimate that it was weird.

Harry was just about to pull out his notebook and begin doodling when Louis walked through the door, looking like some punk rocker (minus the visible tattoos). With dark jeans tighter than Harry’s (was that possible?) and a loose white t-shirt that showed his collarbones, Louis looked like walking sex.

“Hey,” Louis slipped into the seat across from Harry.

“Hi,” Harry offered a small smile.

Shit shit shit was this too date-y? Maybe he should’ve said Subway or something. Fuck man, why did Louis have to run Harry over? He could’ve left Harry to admire him from afar. But apparently life had different plans for him.

“I’m really sorry for hitting you with my car,” Louis said to the table.

“It’s okay,” Harry laughed a little. “No harm no foul.”

“I was just wasn’t thinking, I’m really sorry. My mum took away my car for a week, she was so mad.” Louis explained, talking with his hands and looking sincerely sorry.

“S’okay, I got a free lunch out of it.” Harry smirked.

“That you did,” Louis smiled.

It had to be one of the best smiles in the whole world. All shiny white teeth and sunshine, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and his blue eyes light up.

“So,” Louis ran his hands through his hair. “What do you want? What’s good?”

“Um, I usually get a cinnamon bun and the apple spice tea.”

“Apple spice tea?” Louis looked skeptical.

“Yeah, it’s really good!” Harry nodded. “Probably one of my favorites, really,” he added.

“Do you have good or kind of shitty taste in tea? I take tea very seriously, Harold.” Louis’s voice dropped a little lower, sounding indeed very serious.

(Harry most definitely did not enjoy being called Harold. Nope, not at all.)

“I’ve been told my tea is shit, but that’s coming from someone who only drinks coffee and beer so consider your source,” Harry shrugged. “But everyone seems to get it here, so it must be good.”

“If it’s shit I’m blaming you,” Louis warned him.

“It won’t be shit, I promise,” Harry grinned.

Louis nodded, casting his eyes down and smiling. He walked over to the counter, placing Harry’s order and then began pondering his own. Harry decided that this wasn’t going to be an awkward lunch. After all, it was only awkward if you made it awkward.


	3. story time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry sit and have lunch while retelling stories of how they met their best friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly back story, but whatever. hope you enjoy

Louis places the order, glancing around the café. Judging from the way Harry knew exactly what he wanted, Louis guessed he was a regular here. It was cute that Harry wanted to eat here, it was cozy and cute. Louis was glad Harry hadn’t suggested somewhere like Subway, because that would’ve felt cheap. Louis glanced over at Harry who was now staring out the window.

“You two on your first date?” the lady behind the counter asked.

“What?” Louis snapped his attention to her. “No, no we’re just friends.” He tried to hid the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“If you say so,” the lady winked at him before handing him two teas. “The cinnamon bun will be out in a sec.”

Louis nodded, bringing the tea over to Harry.

“You try it yet?” Harry asked eagerly, taking a sip.

“Not yet,” Louis laughed. He sniffed the tea first, giving it a test. “Doesn’t smell too offensive,” Louis admitted. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a small sip.

“Well?” Harry inquired, practically bouncing in his seat.

Louis thought for a moment before answering. “Well, it’s not shit, I’ll give you that.”

“Not shit!” Harry cheered, smiling. “Niall says it shit, but now I’ve got someone to prove him wrong.”

“Niall as in Niall Horan?” Louis raised his eyebrows. “I play football with him, I think.”

“Yep, that’d be him,” Harry nodded.

“Huh,” Louis scanned his brain for what he knew about Niall. As far as Louis knew, Niall was a good kid; fair at footie, drank lots of beer, swore like a sailor, Irish. “Irish kid that drinks lots of beer and plays football for our team?”

“Totally him,” Harry confirmed.

“What year is he, 10th?” Louis knew he wasn’t a 12th year, because he knew almost everyone in his year and Niall Horan was not one of them.

“Yeah, with me,” Harry nodded.

Was that embarrassment Louis sensed? So, Harry was ashamed to be a 10th year. Most of the kids in that year sucked, so Louis didn’t blame him.

“How long have you known Niall?” Louis guided the conversation in another direction.

“Almost forever,” Harry’s face lit up. “When he moved here in 6th year he knew almost nobody, so my mum felt bad and invited him over one day. I think, like, 30 minutes into our little play date we’d become best friends. We would play football in the backyard, and Niall always yelled at me because I was so bad,” Harry laughed to himself.

“Really?” Louis had to smile, it was a cute story. Similar to his and Zayn’s, really.

“Yeah, I’d miss the ball and he’d swear so loud my mum would come out of the house and tell him if he couldn’t stop swearing for 3 seconds she’d kick him out of her backyard. Not that she ever would,” he conceded. “He’s essentially her second son.”

“Perfect friendship, then,” Louis sipped his tea.

“Almost,” Harry nodded as he went to retrieve his cinnamon bun. “So,” he looked at Louis when he got back to the table. “How’d you and Zayn meet?”

“Well, it’s a lot like how you met Niall,” Louis began. “After my mum and dad got divorced in the 3rd grade, we moved here to Cheshire. I met Zayn in art class one day, and I remember thinking he was so cool because he was good at drawing. So I sat down next to him one day, and he showed me how to draw eyes – well, y’know, 3rd grade eyes, but still – and from there we just kinda talked a little more each day. It was finally in 4th grade that we became best friends. That year we had gym, art, _and_ music class together,” Louis swirled his tea, reminiscing. “I thought Zayn was the coolest person ever because he was good at football, could draw, and has the voice of an angel.”

“Really, he can sing?” Harry interrupted, looking intrigued.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t sing often,” Louis shook his head. “Same, really, ‘cause he’s so good at it, too.”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, sipping his tea. “Sorry, continue.”

“Well, anyway, we became fast friends. We joined the town football team, and our mums became friends because of that. Been friends ever since,” Louis shrugged.

“That’s cute, though, how you two grew on each other,” Harry bit into the cinnamon bun.

“Nothing like the sugary sweet story you and Niall have, but still cute.” Louis nodded, smiling behind his mug.

And maybe Louis won’t say it out loud, but he’s pretty glad he almost ran over Harry. Plus, with Niall as a mutual acquaintance, Louis might just have a reason to see Harry again. So when Harry looks at his watch and yelps, saying something hurried about getting back so they won’t be late for class, Louis makes it his goal to befriend Niall before the week is done. Goal in mind, Louis follows Harry back to the school, smiling to himself.


	4. Football and dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a victory at the football match, the boys go out to dinner. Shit happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thinking of adding another couple? not front and center, but just mentioned in the background.   
> ps thanks to 'blessthefallenones' for your lovely comment!

The rest of the day was thoroughly boring. Harry looked for Louis in the halls, but he was nowhere to be seen. That was okay; Harry had more pressing matter at hand. His chemistry teacher had just informed him that he was, in fact, failing that class. This depressed Harry because he did really try to do well in that class, it was just that chemistry didn’t make any sense to him. 

“Why are you worried?” Niall stuffed some chips into his mouth. “You’ll pull your grade up to a D+ or something and then you’ll be fine,” Niall waved his hand.

“Yeah, but Niall,” Harry looked up from his math homework. “I need to do well! My mum said the only way she would let me go to the Script concert was if I didn’t get anything below a C this semester.” Harry sighed. There was no way he was going now.

“Just ask your boyfriend, I’m sure he’ll be glad to help you,” Niall smirked.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Harry said indignantly.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say Haz. But wait, how do you find the percent composition?”  Niall frowned at the paper, scratching his head.

“No fucking clue,” Harry grumbled, flipping through the text book trying to figure out what in the hell an empirical formula was.

***

It wasn’t until Friday that Harry finally saw Louis. Niall had _begged_ Harry to come to his football match (and mentioned that Louis was on the starting line) so, of course, Harry was there sitting in the stands, freezing his ass off. But seeing Louis run around the pitch and get all sweaty made it worth it.

An hour and a solid victory later, Harry got a text from Niall.

_‘gon take a shower but lads want to go to dinner! U should come ;)’_

Harry smiled. Sending a quick text to his mum about plans, he walked down the bleachers towards the locker rooms entrance. In groups of three or four the now clean footie players bounded out, shouting about plays and goals.

“Ayyye!” Niall bounded out, tailed by a group of seniors which _just so happened_ to include Louis (a very clean, nice smelling Louis).

“Harry,” Louis smiled. “You coming to dinner with us?”

“If that’s okay,” Harry looked at the older boys surrounding Louis. There was Zayn (easy to spot by his Vogue model looks), a boy with large brown eyes and skin still glowing with a summer tan (was his name Liam?) and another named Stan.

“Yeah, the more the merrier,” Louis clapped.  

“Do you guys need a ride?” the boy with the large brown eyes asked.

“Yeah, we do, sorry.” Harry glanced at Niall. Never had he ever felt so young and stupid (seriously, he was 16 now, why couldn’t he drive?). But the boy didn’t seem to mind.

“Come with us, then,” he said. “You still coming with me, Z?” he turned to Zayn.

“Yeah, but you can fit us all, right?” Harry notice Zayn slip his hand around the boy’s waist. Hm.

“We can all fit, I think,” the boy nodded. “We’re right here,” he added to Niall and Harry, pointing at a black Range Rover.

“Great, we’ll see you there!” Louis called from a couple cars over, stuffing his and Stan’s bag into the back of his trunk.

“I’m Liam, by the way,” the boy smiled at Harry as he slid into the front seat. "You are...?"

“Harry,” he smiled back.

The way to the restaurant was easy. Liam and Niall talked about the game, Harry only speaking when he was complementing on the plays, Zayn not speaking at all.  After 10 minutes they arrived, just as Louis and Stan pulled up next to them. Harry shook his curls, put on his best smile, and followed the team into the restaurant.

Niall, Liam, and Zayn were immediately pulled to one end of the table, leaving Harry standing unsure as to where to sit.

“Where do you want to sit?” Louis came up behind him, placing a hand gently on his back.

“Next to you,” Harry whispered.

“We can do that,” Louis guided Harry over towards the other end of the table. It was away from Niall, but that was okay. Harry could be away from Niall for a night.

“So, Harry, tell me,” Louis peered over his menu. “What did you think of the game?”

“I thought it was good,” Harry scanned the menu.

“ _Just_ good?” Louis scoffed.

“I mean, um,” Harry scrambled to cover. “It was –“

“Harry, kidding,” Louis laughed. “It wasn’t the best game we’ve ever played, but we did win.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t be able to tell if it was good or not,” Harry shrugged.

“You don’t watch a lot of football, do you?” Louis looked as if Harry had reached across the table and smacked him.

“Well,” Harry couldn’t help but blush a little, ‘cause hot damn Louis looked really good right now. “I’m not good, and so I never really developed a real interest in it?” Harry tried, shrugging.

“I’m shocked,” Louis set down the menu. “That’s it,” he hit the table for emphasis, “you’re going to come over and I’m going to teach you everything about football that there is to know. Clearly Niall doesn’t have his priorities straight, not making sure his best mate knows a little about footie.” He shook his head.

“He did try!” Harry laughed. “I just never could remember all that. I’m good for kicking the ball around but that’s it.”

“Niall!” Louis shouted across the table. “Get your Irish arse over here!”

Niall jumped up from his conversation with Stan and ran around the table. “What’s up?” he winked at Harry before turning to Louis.

“Please explain to me why young Harry doesn’t understand football?” Louis laced his fingers behind his head.

“Because he’s an idiot,” Niall stated. “Harry doesn’t do sports, he sings and draws and writes really bad knock-knock jokes.”

“Hey!” Harry pouted. “My knock-knock jokes are not _that_ bad,” he scowled down at his menu.

“You write what now?” Louis arched his eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Harry glared at Niall, who just snickered.

“Although he’s probably worse at chemistry than he is writing jokes, and that’s saying something.” Niall winked again before turning on his heel and bounding back over to Liam.

“You’re having trouble with chemistry?” Louis looked genuinely concerned.

Harry wanted to punch Niall so badly. “Yeah, I’m kind of failing that class, actually,” Harry hung his head.

“I can help you, if you want,” Louis shrugged like it was no big deal. “I wasn’t great at chem but I passed.”

“Really?” Harry asked hopefully, lifting his head. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“No, it’d be fine.” Louis reassured him. “Here, give me your phone,” he put his hand across the table.

Harry slowly withdrew his phone from his pocket, pressing it into Louis’s palm. Once Louis had entered his number and slid the phone back across the table he continued, “Just text me a couple days before a test or whatever, and we can meet up.”

“That’s brilliant, thanks so much,” Harry smiled.

His phone buzzed, blinking with a new text:  

_‘get it harry ;)’_

_‘shut up niall you little shit’_ Harry responded.

_‘proud :***’_ was all he got back.

But Harry didn’t really care. He’d gotten Louis’s number, was possibly not going to fail chemistry, and maybe – just maybe – he’d seen Louis checking him out. But only maybe. Guess dinner wouldn’t be that bad after all.


	5. Denny's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet for a little study date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possibly one of the shortest chapters, sorry about that! fogot about a theology project and so i tried to multitask this and the project. didn't go so well. anyway, hope you enjoy!

A week went by before Louis got any texts from Harry. Louis was sitting on his bed trying in vain to finish his physics homework when his phone buzzed.

_‘hey, do u have time to meet up tonight? i forgot about the test we have to tomorrow :( x’_

_‘yeah, it’s no problem! where do u want to meet?’_ Louis sent back, trying not to sound overly excited about it.

Harry replied a few minutes later _‘denny’s? im feeling pancakes to study over x’_

_‘sounds good to me. meet in 25 minutes? x’_

_‘see u then x’_

Louis smiled, pulling a hoodie over his head and dumping his physics stuff onto the floor. He checked his hair in the mirror, brushed his teeth, and grabbed the keys from his desk.

“Mum, I’m going out!” he called as he walked towards the door.

“Where are you going, Lou? It’s a school night,” his mother reminded him.

“I _know_ , mum. I’m meeting this kid named Harry at Denny’s to help him study for a chemistry test. I’ll be back later,” Louis opened the door and walked out, not waiting for a response.  

Louis ended up arriving at Denny’s 10 minutes early, so he sat in the car listening to _‘Do I Wanna Know?’_ on the radio. Louis let his mind wander, imagining kissing Harry to this song. Making out to the Artic Monkey’s was possibly on Louis’s Top 10 Things To Do with Harry. Not that he’d made that list, obviously. But if, hypothetically, he did have that list, making out to the Arctic Monkey’s would be on there.

The song ended, and Louis realized he was now 5 minutes late. He jumped out of the car and jogged over to the restaurant door, hoping Harry wouldn’t be offended he was late. Quickly scanning the booths, he spotted Harry surrounded by books in a booth by the window.

“Sorry I’m late,” Louis apologized as he approached the table.

“S’okay,” Harry looked up, smile spreading across his face. “I only just got here.”

Louis slid into the booth across from Harry. Harry looked like he needed some coffee or a very long nap. Louis was about to say something but the waitress came up to take their order. Louis got chocolate chip pancakes with hot chocolate, and Harry ordered apple pancakes and green tea.

“You have the _weirdest_ taste in food,” Louis teased after the waitress left.

“I think the word you’re looking for is actually _inspired_ ,” Harry corrected.

“Oh, so you’re high?” Louis raised his eyebrows.

“What? No,” Harry laughed nervously and adjusted the beanie that was holding back his curls. “I just meant, like, my taste buds are inspired. By good food,” he continued.

“Whatever you say,” Louis shrugged. “Now, how about this chemistry test. What are you learning?”

 Harry explained what they were supposed to know, and Louis flipped through the book refreshing his memory (while totally not enjoying the sound of Harry’s voice). It wasn’t until 2 and a half hours, 3 cups of tea, 2 cups of coffee, and some chocolate cake that the boys decided it was time to head home.

“Thanks so much, I think I finally get it,” Harry gushed. “Honestly, I would’ve been so screwed. Thanks a lot, Lou.”

Louis ignored the pleasure he got out of the nickname. “No problem, I’m glad I could help.” Louis followed Harry out the door and into the chilly air. “Have you got a ride, young Harold?”

“Um, I think so,” Harry frowned. “I forgot to call my mum…but I’m sure she’ll come get me.”

“It’s late, just come home with me,” Louis offered before he realized what he’d really said. “I can drop you off at your house so your mum doesn’t have to come get you,” he added.

“Are you sure?” Harry furrowed his brows. “I mean, I don’t want to be a burden.”

“No,” Louis shook his head. “It’s no big deal, where do you live?”

“34 Coldspring Lane,” Harry said as he followed Louis down the ramp towards the car.

“You’ll have to direct me when we get close,” Louis opened the car. “I’m pretty sure I know where that is, but I’m not positive.”

“Sure,” Harry slipped into the passenger side. “It’s close to the Tesco’s, but I’ll tell you where to go.”

Heat on full blast, radio on low, Louis drove off, absolutely not looking Harry’s profile every few seconds and thinking about making out with him in his car. Nope, totally not happening.


	6. Define 'classic'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes some progress   
> or, more specifically, Louis throws himself off a cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i'm shit at updating stuff. but now school's over and i have lots of time! hope this chapter's ok :)

The entire car ride was torturous for Harry. Louis hummed along to all the songs, wiggling his hips in the seat at various times. All Harry could think of was grinding on Louis, running his hands through that fluffy fringe and –

“Harry?” Louis snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s face.

“What?” Harry spluttered, coming to from his day dream.

“We’re right by Tesco, which way?” Louis asked gently.

“Oh, take a right. Sorry,” Harry shook his head. Had Louis seen him starring? Hopefully not.

“No problem, how far up the street am I going?”

“All the way, you’ll get to a dead-end and my house is the yellow one on the left.” Harry glanced around, looking everywhere but Louis.

They pulled up in front of his house, and Harry glanced at the house – no lights on, so no one was home yet. 

“Cute little house,” Louis commented.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Harry shrugged. He so desperately did not want to get out of the car. “Wanna come in?” He blurted out.

_What the fuck was that?!_ he mentally kicked himself. Shit, how did he get himself out of this.

“Yeah,” Louis smiled. “Sure,”

Harry sighed in relief, still mentally scolding himself for not being able to put a filter on what came out of his mouth. He got out of the car and pulled his keys out of his pocket as he walked up to the house, Louis following close behind.

After a moment of fumbling with the keys, Harry unlocked the door and let both of them inside. Harry paused, unsure of where to go next. Immediately going to the bedroom would make him look thirsty, but they already eat so the kitchen was kind of out. Louis, however, already seemed to have mapped out where he wanted to go. He strolled into the first room he saw (the living room) and walked over to the fire place to begin looking at everything.

“Harry!” he practically squealed, holding a photo in his hand. “Is this you?”

Harry tried not to take too much delight in the way Louis’s face was all scrunched up and smiling.

“Yeah, yeah that’s me and Gem,” he said, coming to stand just behind Louis.

“You were too cute,” Louis placed the photo back on the mantel and picked up another one.

“What, like I’m not cute now?” Harry smirked.

“Cute?” Louis scoffed. “I guess you could classify as cute,”

“Excuse you, I am the epitome of cute!” Harry was offended (sort of).

“Whatever you say, Curly,” Louis laughed as he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, knocking the beanie to the floor.

Curly? Harry buried his smile into his shoulder. He would absolutely not fall victim to a nickname like that. Nope, it wasn’t happening.

“Tell me, Curly, where do you keep your music?” Louis twirled around from the mantel to properly face Harry. “Assuming you’re a _real_ 90’s kid and have got some CD’s still.”

“Even better,” Harry grinned. “I’ve got vinyl!”

“Vinyl? Ah, a man after my heart,” Louis clutched his chest, pretending to swoon.

“You know it,” Harry winked. “Follow me,” he said skipping towards the stairs.

Harry skipped a few steps, flying to his room just to double check it wasn’t a complete mess. In the 5 seconds he had before Louis entered, he managed to shove some stuff under his bed and put all the tissues in the garbage.

“I must say, Harold, much cleaner than I would have expected,” Louis nodded appreciatively.

Harry just shrugged, sitting on the floor by the table that held his record player and all the records. He flipped through, trying to find his Beach Boys collection. Louis plopped next to him, stopping Harry now and then to either criticize or praise Harry’s music selection.

“The Beach Boys, really Curly?” Louis shook his head.

“Hey! They’re a classic,” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, but even my Nana likes them,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“See, classic!” Harry knocked their shoulders together.

“Old does _not_ equal classic,” Louis gasped, knocking their shoulders again.

“Obviously, but like, it’s the Beach Boys,” Harry reasoned.

“The Beatles are a classic, the Rolling Stones are classic,” Louis turned to that he was facing Harry.

“The Rolling Stones, really?” It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Yes!” Louis waved his hands dramatically in the air. “Led Zeppelin, the Ramones, all classics.”

“Mmm,” Harry hummed noncommittally. Louis was good looking, but not so good looking that it would excuse a bad taste in music (at least, that’s what Harry told himself).

“I’m appalled,” Louis huffed, turning his attention back to the records.

Harry let him sift through the collection, while admiring Louis. His lashes were long, cheekbones prominent, lips pink. Harry wanted to kiss him so badly, it made him ache. Looking at Louis was like a drug, and Harry was hooked.

Louis must have noticed Harry starring after a while, but he didn’t look up for a little while longer. When he finally did look at Harry, after selecting an Elvis record, they just looked at each other for a while. Harry licked his lips, a nervous habit, and Louis’s eye zeroed in. After a moment of stillness, Louis pulled his eyes away.

“I, uh, I should probably head home soon,” Louis mumbled. “It’s getting late and everything.”

“Yeah,” Harry tried to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, okay.” He got up and led Louis out of his room and down the stairs.

Harry lounged against the railing of the stair case, watching Louis pull on his vans. A million different thoughts ran through Harry’s mind. Kissing Louis could ruin any chance at a friendship, but kissing Louis could also start something worth his while.

“As awful as your definition of classic is,” Louis started, breaking the silence. “I’d still like to show you some real music, and how to play a decent game of footie.” He smiled at his vans, looking up at Harry through his lashes. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds alright with me,” Harry grinned, inching slowly towards the smaller boy.

Louis grinned, sidling up to Harry until they were pressed together. “So, we’re agreed you’ll revise your definition of ‘classic’?” Louis joked.

“Maybe,” Harry winked.

Louis paused, looking up at Harry. Oh shit, was Harry being to forward? Then again Louis was the one pressed up against Harry. But maybe –

“Ah, fuck it,” Louis whispered. And then he reached up on his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Harry’s.

Harry’s mind went blank for a second; the only thing he could register was the fact that Louis – Louis _fucking_ Tomlinson – was kissing him. In fact, _he_ had kissed Harry. Louis’s lips were warm and soft and the absolute best thing Harry had ever felt.

After a minute or so of sweet kisses, Louis pulled back first, breathless. Harry tried to hide his smile by biting his lip. Louis’s eyes locked in on his lips. Harry released his bottom lip, running his tongue over it.

“Harry,” Louis whispered, pupils growing ever larger.

“Yes, Louis?” Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’s waist, pulling him even closer.

“It’s late,” Louis cleared his throat.

Harry pouted; he didn’t want Louis to leave just yet. Louis cupped Harry’s cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb just under Harry’s eye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? After practice?” Louis proposed, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agreed. He could wait until tomorrow, right?

“G’night Harry,” Louis kissed Harry goodnight before slipping out the door, leaving Harry a dazed – albeit happy – mess.  


	7. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry end up making out in Louis's car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii so this is the end :( apologies for not updating over the summer, but now it's here! thanks for all the support I love y'all so much <333

Louis woke up that morning long before his alarm, when it was just barely light outside. His mind was a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts. While part of him felt like squealing like a teenage girl, a small part of him wondered if what had happened last night was a mistake. After all, Harry was 16 and Louis was going on 19. Not a huge gap, but seniors at Louis’s school didn’t date (assuming Harry even wanted to date Louis) sophomores unless they were just using them.

Whatever, they could figure out what they both wanted later after practice. No use in worrying about it all now at 6 in the morning.

                                                                        ~*~

Louis kept his head down and made it through the school day without deliberately searching for Harry. Zayn sensed something was up, and asked Louis several times what was up, but Louis had just winked and told him they’d talk later.

Finally, the end of school came. After what was possibly the longest practice Louis had ever been to, he quickly showered and walked out of the locker rooms. He scanned the bleachers, and sure enough, there was Harry with all his school stuff out. Had he really stayed for all of the practice? Louis tried not to smile too big.

Walking up to the base of the bleachers, Louis called to Harry, “You gonna sit there all day, or you coming with me?”

Harry’s head snapped up, pen stopping on paper mid-sentence. “I’m coming,” he said as he hurriedly packed up all his stuff.

Louis waited as Harry scrambled to get his things together and make his way down the steps. Once he reached the bottom, Louis pulled him under the bleachers and kissed him. Goddamn, Louis though, kissing this boy is never going to get old. Harry kissed back eagerly, hands already roaming. Louis smirked and pulled back a little.

“Miss me?” he asked.

“Maybe a little,” Harry replied, small smirk on his sinfully pink mouth.

Louis rolled his eyes, giving Harry one more kiss before pulling them out from under the bleachers. Louis slung his football bag over his shoulder and they headed off towards the car. Harry hesitantly slid his hand into Louis’s, unsure. Louis just smiled and gave Harry’s hand a squeeze.

Louis went over his plan once more. What if Harry said no? What if he just wanted a hook up? He tried to push these thoughts out of his head. Louis had had his fair share of hookups in the past. None of them, not once, had ever wanted to hold his hand. So, as they got to the car and put their stuff in the back, Louis gathered his courage.

“Um, Harry?” Louis asked, trying to keep his voice steady and sure.

“Yeah, Lou?” Hot damn, why did Harry have to be so attractive? It was distracting Louis from his mission.

“Well, I was just wondering, um, if maybe at like some point…” Louis cleared his throat. “Would you ever, y’know, wanna go out?” There. He had said it.

“I, uh,” Harry stuttered. “I’d love it,” he finally got, face spreading into a wide grin.

Louis smiled, sighing in relief. “Good, cause now I can do this.” And with that, Louis dragged Harry into the backseat for one of the hottest backseat make out sessions of his life.


End file.
